The Joys of Misplacing One's Clothing
by Elsa007
Summary: After a night of passion, Jack forgets his Fedora and Overcoat in a certain Lady Detectives boudoir. When she returns them to him at his office the next day, she makes sure the experience is...unforgettable. One Shot. (For now - if you want more chapters review and I will think about it!) Rated M for a Reason.


**Author's Note: SOOO sorry to all waiting for updates on my other stories. I've hit a bit of a road block as far as both time, and inspiration. This was an idea I had in the corner recesses of my mind that I was able to bang out in about an hour. Hopefully it's good enough, you won't mind waiting a bit on the other fics! PLEASE review and tell me what you think – I'd love the feedback and I'd love to hear how I can improve/what you liked!**

 **You're all amazing!**

 **XOXO - E**

* * *

Jack Robinson felt inexplicably naked. (Not as naked, of course, as he had this morning when she'd had her fingers trailing over the contours of his bare chest, her toes mingling pleasantly with his own feet, her lips migrating impossibly closer to his…" Jack cleared his throat and straightened his tie. Right. Probably not the best train of thought to review as he walked through the doors of City South. Again, feeling quite naked. He'd been in such a hurry to sneak out before Dot would catch him and his head had still been spinning since Phryne had shown him what she meant by… _no, focus Jack_ …that he'd climbed out her window, down the trellis covered in the most delicious smelling vines, and managed to leave both his fedora and long coat lying somewhere on the floor of Phryne's room. How he had forgotten to put them on was beyond him.

* * *

How he had lost them however…he'd gone up to her room, fully dressed, to check on her. She hadn't been herself at the crime scene that day had retired quite quickly after he had arrived in St. Kilda. After propping his hat on his head and bidding adieu to Mr. Butler and Miss Williams, he had nearly walked out the door when he set his mind to go check on her. She'd been acting quite oddly lately and he was worried. Without bothering to take off his hat or coat, he trotted up the stairs and knocked softly on her door.

"Miss Fisher," He's spoken lowly, not wanting to rouse her if she were already asleep. "It's Jack. I wanted to be sure you were alright."

The door slid open with Phryne clinging to the side of it as though it were the only thing holding her to the floor. It took Jack all of a second to see that she'd been crying. Without thinking he swept into the room and took her into his arms. The sight of Phryne crying was a harrowing one. She wasn't what you'd call a weeper, and the only time he'd ever seen her tears escape her before this moment, was when they'd dug up her sister's body. It had broken his heart then and it broke him now.

"Phryne," He had murmured, holding her body to his and cupping the back of her head, cradling it against his chest as he would a newborn. "What is it? What's wrong? I knew something was wrong. I could feel it and I could see it in your face. Please. Let me help you make this right." He begged her, without hesitation. The pain on her face was tripled inside him at the thought of someone having hurt her.

"It's complicated, Jack."

"Life is complicated. When have we come against a problem we can't solve, hmm?" He replied soothingly, stroking the back of her head softly.

"It's not like that. I've just…I've just realized something and I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Would you like to talk about it?" His fingers felt the black silk slide through them as he rubbed Phryne's back comfortingly. Her robe clung to her pleasantly, and Jack reveled in the feel of it as he held her.

"It's just…" She pulled back, ever so slightly, suddenly stiff in his arms. Reluctantly, but knowing it was what she wished, Jack released her, and watched as she took a few steps back and faced away from him. "It's just that I realized something today, and it has scared me quite thoroughly. Not for the realization itself, of course. It's…well it's a nice thing. Most people would be quite happy at the realization of this, only I'm not most people and I know that as soon as I have my hands on something as wonderful and pure as this I'm surely going to ruin it and I can't bear the thought of losing it now that I've realized I've got it." Jack's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the hurried tirade she let out.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need some context."

"I love you." Jack froze. That hadn't been at all what he expected. Before he could react further, she continued. "I realized that I'm completely and hopelessly in love with you. And...that made me very happy when I realized it. For about a minute and then I realized that I ruin everything, especially things like this, and I'm sure to do this all wrong and we'll end up with me still hopelessly in love with you and you hurt or hating me or both and I just can't bear that, Jack. I just can't bear the thought of your hurting and now I've gone and done it. I've said I love you and ruined a perfectly good friendship and partnership because you'll never be able to look at me the same way again and I just-"

Whatever Phryne had been about to say had been cut off thoroughly by Jack's lips. Two long strides forward and her face was cradled delicately in his hands, his lips pressed fervently against hers. "I love you. I love you more than you can possibly imagine, Phryne Fisher." He murmured lowly, between heated kisses. "I didn't think you could ever love me back."

"You fool. I think I've loved you for a very, very long time." Jack pulled her even closer as her hands found their way inside his overcoat and suit jacket, resting pleasingly on his waist. His arms wrapped around her and they were very suddenly flush against one another. "I've been an independent woman a long time, Jack Robinson, and God help me I still am, but the thought of being with anyone but you makes me sick inside. I can't live without you Jack." Jack opened his lips to respond likewise, to regale her with all the ways he loved her, but then she did something clever with her tongue and all thoughts raced away from his mind. It was around then he tipped his hat off and she pulled him free from his overcoat, the rest of his clothing following closely behind, lying on the floor, mingled with her silk robe and the lacy negligee that had been hiding beneath.

* * *

Back in the present, Jack's cheeks felt aflame as he relived those precious moments once again in his head. He cleared his throat, and fixed his already perfectly in place tie as he sat down to fill out some paperwork. It was only a matter of time before someone killed someone else and he would have a perfectly good distraction to the myriad of thoughts rushing through his head as he pictured quite vividly the curve of Phryne's lips when she reached her peak. Suddenly her voice echoed in his ear…and not because he was imagining it.

"Hello Hugh!" She spoke brightly, not far outside his closed door. He instantly ran his fingers through his hair smoothing it as best as he could. He'd found some pomade in her bathroom, but it wasn't his usual kind and it was a bit old, leaving him slightly more rumpled than usual. (Though not much.) Once again he straightened his perfect tie and tried to smooth down his suit. "Is the Inspector in?" Phryne was asking. "I found his hat and coat where he left them at my house last night." She said cryptically, not technically lying (She had found them, precisely where they had been placed as of last night, no one had moved them since.) but still not letting anyone in on the fact that _he_ had been left there last night as well, not leaving until early this morning.

"Yes Miss. I can see that." Hugh said, clearly smiling. What the hell did that mean? That he "could see that"? "He's in his office, Miss." Jack purposely looked away from the door so that he wouldn't be staring as she walked through. It was a mistake. The moment he caught sight of her, he wished he had seen her even earlier. Phryne Fisher strode into his office, wearing _his_ fedora, perched lopsidedly on her head in a way that would be reminiscent of Mac and if it weren't so entirely and completely Phryne, and wrapped around her, tighter and more fitted then he'd ever worn it, (thanks to a belt encircling her waist that certainly wasn't his) was his coat. His heart leapt to his throat and more noticeably, his blood rushed…somewhere a bit south of there. Phryne closed the door behind her and held his eye contact as she locked it in place.

"I woke up this morning to find you missing." She said lowly, so that her words would not be overheard by any of the young men outside his office door.

"I had to work."

"Yes, you were in quite the hurry. You forgot a few things on your way out."

"I can see that."

"They smelled like you." She commented. Jack didn't know quite what to make of that, though it did warm him slightly to know that she had a distinct idea of what he smelled like.

"I apologize."

"Don't." She returned. "I was simply going to return them but then I caught a whiff and I couldn't help but put them on, envelope myself in the scent." Jack's throat went dry and he swallowed thickly.

"Is that so?" He asked, staring at the beautiful sight before him. She came and rested herself on the edge of his desk. "Well I'm afraid I'll have to remove them from your possession. You've come on the pretense of returning my property, it would be odd if you were to flounce out the door with them still on your person, as happy as I would be to think of you in my coat." Her eyes flashed with something akin to both mischief and lust.

"Odder still if I didn't."

"How so?"

"I think I'd be giving your constables quite the show if I walked out without it on." She settled back, perching herself more firmly on the spot she'd claimed as hers on the edge of his desk. Curious as to what she might be wearing beneath his coat that would be so ludicrous, Jack slowly untied the belt she'd added to the ensemble and pulled it open.

His heart stopped. Not permanently, but for a moment, his heart ceased working. When it started up again, it beat a staccato so rapid his very skin felt alive. Underneath his coat, was…well…nearly nothing. She had on stockings and a pair of heels that made her calves stand out pleasantly. Those stockings were held up by a garter belt and rested deliciously on her hips. He could see, said garter belt, because there was no dress atop it. Nor were there undergarments covering her heavily breathing chest, nor was there so much as a scrap of fabric to cover the place he had, hours ago, been buried to the hilt. He stared, his mouth open in awe, his eyes, dark with something that clearly pleased Phryne. She slid her arms out of the coat until she stood before him, in a garter belt, stockings, heels, and _his_ fedora. And nothing else. Moments passed but not many before he was crushing her to his body again, feeding his soul on the taste of her lips as they sucked his into her mouth. Her tongue lapped delectably at his and it muffled the moan he let out wantonly. Her breasts were pressed firmly against his shirt and her legs were infiltrating themselves between his.

He had a better idea.

He propped one leg up on his chair and pulled her off the desk, on top of his outstretched thigh. He held her close to him, her toes reaching the ground and he held her weight up, her hot, wet (he could feel it even through his own layers of clothing) center pressed against the wool of his trousers. She moaned as quietly as she could at the rough feeling against her most sensitive area. Trying something new, (very new for the buttoned up Inspector) he grabbed her hips roughly and pulled her forward on his leg, providing a sensation on her clit that made her eyes roll to the back of her head. She began moving herself and the Inspector watched in awe as Phryne Fisher, began taking her pleasure, in his office, in his _hat_ (and little else!) on his leg, gripping his arms as though she may die at any moment. This was a sight he wasn't about to forget. He could feel her arousal soaking in through his trousers and making a rather remarkable sensation against his skin, but the sight of her, naked, wearing _his_ hat, an article of clothing that marked her as _his_ , her chest moving seductively with each back and forth motion, her lips parted, eyes half closed, taking her pleasure on his body, it was the sort of thing that burned itself into one's memory like a damned tattoo. (The Army had left him with only one such souvenir, and Jack found he preferred this sort of mental tattoo – especially the subject matter of the marking – greatly over the date inscribed on his right shoulder blade.)

Phryne began to whimper, biting her lip and squeezing his arms and he could tell she was close. He needed to see – desperately and fully _needed_ to watch her descend into the sweet oblivion that accompanied this sort of action. He leaned forward and latched his lips to her right nipple and sucked hard, drawing out a muffled groan. (She'd stuffed her fist in her mouth.) He began to massage her with his tongue, nipping and licking in equal measure moaning a bit himself at the beautiful sensation of having her breast between his lips.

"Dear God, Jack!" She gasped breathlessly. His hands repositioned themselves to her rear, gripping tightly enough to be labeled rough, while still knowing she wouldn't bruise from his ministrations.

"Phryne." He returned just as short of breath. There was something about them saying one another's names, some sort of togetherness, couple-ness, some sort of claiming one another and declaring themselves as lovers, wholly and entirely belonging to one another, that made both of them all the more turned on. Jack could feel his own need growing exponentially, but he also knew that this wasn't about him, that this moment was about her and that he would have his turn at some later date or time. (Preferably no more than 13 minutes after his shift was over – the amount of time it took to drive to a certain house in St. Kilda.) He brushed his own arousal aside, (metaphorically – touching it now would only have increased matters, so to speak) and returned to her, holding her well-formed derriere in one hand, he circled the other around and began to massage her chest, staring into her eyes the entire time. "God, but you're beautiful." He told her. Perhaps it was the absolute sense of honesty in his eyes, or perhaps it was simply that it was Jack who said it, but the words made Phryne's heart race and her skin feel aflame. She smiled and gripped his arms in hers, pulling herself close to him, while still thrusting against his leg.

" _You're_ beautiful." She murmured in his ear. "Jack, I love you. You're _mine._ " She said, marking her claim by sucking harshly on a spot just below his shirt collar, truly and literally marking him with her lips, leaving behind her own seal to ward off anyone interested in staking their own claim. Jack growled in a way that was entirely animalistic and gripped Phryne's hips in his hands. He pulled on them, hurrying the gait of her movements and pushing her harder down on his leg with each stroke. She threw her head back and had to stuff her fingers in her mouth to keep from crying out.

"Fuck." Jack swore at the site. Something about the dirty word coming from Jack's perpetually honorable lips made Phryne's pleasure surge and she came in resounding waves, folding herself against him. She'd deny it if anyone ever asked and he would claim he wasn't aware of such happenings but curled up in Jack's embrace, after one of the most intense sessions what she knew to be something far more akin to 'making love' than just sex, Phryne Fisher wept. Partly from exhaustion and over stimulation, but partly, because it was Jack, the man she loved, and she knew with every fiber of her being that he loved her too.

* * *

"As you can see, Darling, I'll need the coat as I leave." Phryne said with a smile, tucking a stray piece of his hair back in place.

"Not at all, in fact I do believe _I_ need it when I leave, to cover up a rather suspicious wet spot on my trousers."

"I think naked trumps oddly suspicious spot that could very well be coffee." Jack swiped at the mark in question and held it up to his face, staring at Phryne, before putting his finger in his mouth and slowly sucking on it. Phryne felt her nether regions ignite once again but she knew perfectly well that she'd have to ignore them…for now at least.

"It certainly doesn't taste like coffee…" He teased. Her eyes flashed with amusement.

"Are your constables likely to go about tasting your trousers, Jack?"

"I suppose not, but as I am their boss, my reputation needs to be spotless. I can't go about with suspicious spots on my clothing, particularly after the love of my life trounces out of my precinct completely naked, don't you think?"

"Then it's settled, in order to retain your reputation, I wear your coat home and you stop by this evening to…retrieve it."

"Seems pretty far out of my way home, just to fetch an old coat."

"Well then I best make it worth your time, Inspector." She said, sliding her arms back through the sleeves. He reached forward and fastened it together.

"I'll be there by 7:43."

"That's very specific."

"My shift ends at 7:30."

"And it takes you a whole 13 minutes to drive to my house? You could easily be there by 7:35 if you really tried."

"Some of us obey the traffic laws, Miss Fisher."

"Even when there is a very naked Lady Detective waiting for you in her boudoir?" Jack paused, pulling his hat off her head and placing it on his own before tipping up her chin with his index finger and leaning in, hair's widths away from a kiss.

"7:40, then."

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

His amusement at Phryne's excuse to Collins that she'd gone and caught her dress on the cabinet in the corner of Jack's office and torn it and Jack had been kind enough to lend her his coat for her trip home so that she wouldn't expose herself in public playing over and over in his head, Jack walked up her steps with an extra spring in his gait at precisely 7:36.

She had been right.

Enough motivation could persuade even a man like him to break the law.

And the images she had left him with combined with the phone call he'd received at 7:29 that was naught more than her moaning and whimpering his name, was certainly motivation enough.


End file.
